Legacy of Kain: Tube Reaver
by Dark Oath
Summary: For his transgression, Raziel earned a new kind of reward. It was only a shame Rahab didn't check the washing instructions first...Chapter 6 is now released. [Written with Roh]
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: We don't own Legacy of Kain, or associated characters, places, minerals, animals and vegetables. However, we do claim to have spent too many late nights writing this and (as yet unposted) following chapters, in the hope they become fit to be read by anyone.

LEGACY OF KAIN: TUBE REAVER

_Raziel Voice over:_

Kain is deified. The Clans tell tales of him. Personally, I think he is a git. I have served him a millennium and had, quite frankly got a bit bored with it.

Kain was sitting in his throne at the base of the ruined Pillar of Balance. It had been his idea of a good joke, but the damn thing was so uncomfortable that he now regretted having a sense of humour. The Tube Reaver resting in his right claws as he surveyed the room and looked at his sons'. "Raziel better have a good reason for asking for this gathering, I said I didn't want to see you lot for a month after that last practical joke you pulled." He rubbed his temple with his free hand hoping Raziel wouldn't feel the need to make an overly grand entrance. He didn't think his nerves could take it.

Pacing back and forth just outside the Pillars, Raziel waited for his moment. He didn't want to simply barge in, nor keep them waiting so long that his eventual entrance would be received with impatient apathy. Any second now. He stopped, and flexed his newly gained wings. Perhaps he should fly in, and land before them with a perfect backflip? No… Kain had almost swiped off his bottom jaw last time he'd made a scene of himself. And anyway, his wings spoke for themselves, did they not? He would play it down this time. Pulling his shoulders back, and assuming his perpetual frown, he walked on until Kain came into his sight.

Kain leant forward in his throne, watching his eldest approach. What had the boy done now? He could see Raziel walking towards him with a recognisable air about him. What was that sticking up from his back? Kain groaned, the last time Raziel made an entrance with something hidden behind his back, he had produced it with such an exaggerated flourish that he had nearly had Kain's eye out. Kain winced at the memory of having to patiently explain to him that when showing off a new sword, it was polite to keep the pointy end away from people.

Raziel tried not to smirk at the bemused looks on his brothers' faces, and Kain's mildly concerned snarl was priceless. He stopped just before Kain, in full view of all present. A little too ceremoniously (particularly for him, who only ever bothered with protocol in front of the neighbours, and even then only because even he wasn't immune to Kain's death-glares yet), he dropped on one knee, and bowed his head, in the vain hope of hiding the silly grin plastered on his face.

Kain noted Raziel's bowed head was an attempt to hide the grin on his face, rather than a respectful acknowledgement to his father. There were times he was so tempted to shove the Tube Reaver up Raziel's left nostril. He secretly pitied Raziel's human parents, at least he'd never had to deal with Raziel as a small pink bundle of arrogant exuberance, when he wasn't whinging, that was. He leant further forward in the hope it might encourage Raziel to get on with whatever he was doing. There was only so much suspense he could take, especially when it was being milked by Raziel for all it was worth.

Sensing that Kain was growing impatient, and an impatient Kain was not a nice Kain, Raziel slowly unfolded one wing, and then, once he had decided even Dumah would've got the idea by now, he unfolded the other. He looked at Kain, his sulky frown almost back in place, and winked.

Raising himself from his throne, to get a closer look at this new development of Raziel's, Kain left the Tube Reaver resting against his throne, and slowly walked around Raziel, inspecting the new appendages from all angles. Not bad, not bad at all. Kain really had to bite down the urge to say 'Do they work? Wow, let's see!'. Shame really.

"You've taken much upon yourself, Raziel. Evolving before me is right at the top of the naughty list." Kain gestured to the ruined Pillar of Conflict, Where, stuck with tape was a piece of paper titled 'Dad's rule's', sure enough, the first on the list was: '1: No evolving before Dad.' Followed by '2: Keep bedrooms tidy.' The list went on to encompass some of the more mundane aspects of everyday life.

Raziel looked over at the list of rules, noting with some panic that he had broken both of the top rules, then over his shoulder at Kain. "I had not intended to break your rules. My evolution is no challenge to you, it is…" he twitched his claws nervously, "…for your Empire. A new weapon against those who would challenge you. And pretty, too." He added, hopefully.

"Ah yes, pretty, Raziel, but what exactly would you do with them? Beat my enemies to death with them? Interesting mental picture, but ultimately useless." As he was speaking, Kain had walked around behind Raziel, then stopped, as he spoke the last word, he scrunched up his eyes only ever–so-slightly (it didn't do to let anyone know he was slightly squeamish), and yanked hard on Raziel's wings, tearing the delicate framework of bones from them. "It's for your own good son."

Raziel, who had to hand any number of witty retorts to Kain's lack of faith, lost them all in that second, and said something completely different, which he was sure had Kain heard it through his other cries of agony, would have earned him a swift cuff around the ear. He fell back to the floor, and whimpered pathetically. For his own good? Ha! Kain hadn't torn Turel's ears off for his 'own good', and they were almost twice the size and magnificence of Raziel's wings.

Kain looked at Raziel as he lay crumpled on the floor and heard the frantic whispering of his other children caused by these sudden new developments. He mentally made a note to give Zephon a thick ear for saying, "Cool" and looking like he wanted to touch Raziel's tattered remnants of wings. Whatever Kain's reasoning, he felt there was no need for that kind of morbid interest. Turning to Rahab. "Have you put the washing in yet?" He asked.

Despite being confused by recent events, Rahab answered promptly. "No, Father. I was going to do it this afternoon." There were disadvantages to being immune to water. Clothes washing was one of them.

"We're taking a trip to the laundrette, boys. Turel, Dumah, grab him." Kain gestured to the mess on the floor by his feet.

Raziel was hauled up by his two largest brothers, though he wasn't in any state to understand why this was, or why Rahab was going to take Kain to the laundrettes this afternoon. Something prodded him. He turned his head quickly, too quickly, and the world spun. Somewhere behind Dumah, Zephon was walking like innocent people walk. He managed to say 'ow', and wondered what happened to his quick-healing powers. He decided Zephon had probably stolen them, from the smug look on his face.

Zephon grinned at managing to get in a prod before Kain noticed. He followed Kain and his brothers dutifully while snickering at Raziel's obvious pain. He elbowed Melchiah as he drew level with Zephon.

"Meanie." Melchiah poked out his tongue and picked up the pace to distance himself. He was probably going to do something gross again.

As Rahab disappeared off to get the washing, Kain overheard Turel whisper to Dumah.

"My arm's killing me. Has he been eating an entire village?" Dumah just vacantly smiled at his brother. Turel looked suitably guilty as Kain spun and gave him a look that let him know it could be him next. As the Vampires were half way to their destination Rahab joined them again with a basket full of clothes. Melchiah ran over to him. "Is my bandage in there?" He asked frantically" I need it."

"No. Sorry Mel this is the blue wash." Rahab replied.

Raziel's surroundings were slowly coming back into focus. He'd heard Turel's complaints, and deliberately lifted his feet up off the ground, swinging one angrily at Turel's ankle as he walked. Zephon drew in closer again, and ducked slightly as he walked, drawing his face level with Raziel's. He grinned, and opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but Raziel aimed a swift kick at his shin. It missed, but Zephon stepped back anyway, and taunted him from there. Raziel glared, and returned to kicking Turel.

Kain was aware of his son's feeble attempts to generally irritate the world at large, or those in his immediate vicinity anyway. Refusing to acknowledge that his sons would probably accuse him of being just a little bit hypocritical, he cuffed Zephon around the ear for being unnecessarily vindictive. There was torturing the condemned, and there was _torturing_ the condemned. Kain always had the impression that Zephon as a child had pulled the wings off butterflies and poked at slugs with a small twig.

As they reached the cliff top, Kain strode forward and looked into the swirling depths of the Turbo Spin cycle. He watched his sons take their appropriate positions as Turel and Dumah came forward with Raziel in-between them and Rahab came up with his basket. Placing the basket on the ground, Rahab walked to the edge where a pole was lodged in the ground with a rope tied around it. Pulling the rope revealed a basket attached to the end of it. Hoiking it up, he placed the clothes from the other basket into the new one then started to lower the basket back down into the water below. Kain walked away from the edge, as did Rahab.

"Cast him in." Kain commanded.

Raziel lifted his head and glared at Kain, then at each of his brothers, taking particular care to stick his tongue out at Zephon. He felt his brothers' grip on him tighten, and with seemingly little effort (though as Raziel was still trying to kick Turel, and was now aiming much of his anger at Dumah, too, they were obviously quite competent actors) they lifted him together, nodded to each other, and threw. Raziel was flying, and all of Nosgoth echoed with Dumah's poetic cries of 'Bye-bye Bruv!'.

Zephon grinned, as his brother's anguished cries became more distant. "Last one back to Sanctuary is a rotten corpse!"

"Hey!" Retorted Melchiah.

Zephon grinned even wider. "You know what this means, Melchiah? We're all one space higher and you're still at the bottom. Ha!" Zephon's grin vanished instantly as Kain glared at him.

"Turel, make sure they all get back. And I want the place tidy when I return. I have business to attend to."

Turel made a face that Kain couldn't see, whilst he straightened up his skirt where Raziel had been kicking him and replied. "Yes, Lord." Turel kept his tone formal. He'd just witnessed what his father had done to his favourite son, and he happened to like his ears.

Raziel was plummeting. He was screaming, too. Why couldn't have things been different? Why couldn't Kain see how pretty his wings were? How nice they would've looked in the Sanctuary of the Clans? But here he was, tumbling in the Turbo Spin Cycle, Quick Wash, No Ironing, alongside the blue washing. Turel's off- the-shoulder blue dress, Rahab's swimming trunks, Melchiah's…what was that? Oh, a bandage. That wasn't blue before, was it? And some other items. It seemed someone had thrown Kain's Moebius and the Time-Streamers Tour t-shirt in there, too. Raziel noted that the washing powder Rahab used wasn't the gentle kind, and was causing him all sorts of agony. He whined.

Later that evening Kain returned to the Sanctuary of the Clans. There was a note on his throne. Picking it up, he recognised Turel's scrawled handwriting. He read:

'Dear Dad, I've sent everyone back to their respective territories. There were arguments breaking out, and Rahab broke Zephon's nose just to shut him up for two minutes. By the way, I suggest you have a talk with Zephon, he's getting really over-excited and really out-of-hand with this whole incident with Raziel. I locked him in a box for a while but that only served to make him yell louder. Other than that, everything's fine. P.S. I had a tidy before I left. Turel.'.

Kain looked around the hall. There was a sticker book of Dumah's left in the corner, but that could be overlooked. Other than that, Turel had done a good job. Kain wondered if he was worried. Well, he had just throw his eldest into the wash.

And that was when it happened. Raziel, tumbling around, circling wildly in the vortex of the washing machine, after so long now that he was quite unlike the vampire he had been (except for his hair, which had by some means stayed almost perfect though a bit shorter) and stained a shade of blue, that he looked down. They were gone. His clan cape still lingered around him, his shoulder armour was long gone, his boots…his boots were much less than they had been, just as his gauntlets were, but he was missing them. He looked around frantically, but there was no sign, not even a shred of them. His trousers, his precious made-for just-for -him trousers, were nothing more than a memory.

Time had passed since Raziel had been thrown in with the washing, as time was in the habit of doing. In his long absence, there had been changes. Most of them weren't even pretty. Kain waited.

After a good number of years perfecting his inner monologue, because there was little else to do when in that part of the Turbo Spin Cycle that lost socks go to, Raziel had become a brilliantly proficient Whinger, and had conjured from his memory all those long words Kain had used at council meetings and taught himself when to use them, and how to pronounce them to the best effect. So he was quite prepared when he finally stopped spinning. Which he did.


	2. In which Raziel learns of registration

As usual, we own nothing at all, including everything Nosgothic/Nosgothian? Star Trek or the Hoover logo. If you sue, the most you will get is my pen, I own that, possesion being nine tenths of the law.

Thank you to all our reviewers, if you enjoy this half as much as we do writing it, then that's still a lot. Which is good.

Chapter 2

"Wow, you must be dizzy after all that spinning. Anyway, hi! I'm the Hubcap of the Wheel. The Elder God himself. All singing, all dancing…well, maybe not all dancing. I don't really have the body for it. As I was saying, I am the Hubcap of the Wheel in the cycle of Births, Marriages and Deaths, and this is my office. You are welcome."

It was the kind of voice normally reserved for people referred to as 'happy' and 'shiny'.

Raziel shook his head. The urge to crawl away and curl up under a rock was almost inescapable, much like those evenings when Melchiah and Dumah would take it in turns trying to shake him from sleep, ignoring the muffled protests of 'but I dunt wanna go to the council meeting'. With a grunt, he stood up, and looked over the Elder God as well as he could.

"What madness is this? It is you who stole the socks of my brethren?" He gestured to its tentacles. "A single one from each pair!"

Giving a sheepish grin, the Elder God confessed. "Um…Yes, Raziel, that was me. Even gods need to keep warm.

"Anyway, I need you to help me save my office from total disorganisation. I have saved you from the Turbo Spin Cycle, and in return you will free the souls of your maker and your brothers for proper registration. Become my Assistant Registrar, or Reaver of Souls if you will, as that sounds more cool." The Elder God spoke, while frantically waving tentacles around and spreading paperwork everywhere.

Raziel ducked as a particularly large folder flew at his head. "You'll never organise your paperwork like that. You need thumbs. Anyway, what would be the point in me releasing the souls of my brothers when there are entire clans of unregistered souls roaming over Nosgoth? What are six lost souls in the face of clanfuls of them? It's completely illogical. You just want me to commit fratricide because you never had the chance when you were younger."

"Don't take that tone with me young man. Obviously you'll have to kill all the vampires you meet, unless the buggers can be convinced to get married, then impale themselves at a sensible and convenient time, for the sake of the records you see. This will also, if you do as you're told, give you a chance to get some revenge on your brothers and father for burning your trousers." The Elder God knew he'd probably hit the nerve that made Raziel twitch.

Raziel folded his arms and looked away, ever the moody one. "Fine. I'll do it. But you're paying for my travel costs and hotel fees, and I want six weeks paid holiday a year."

The Elder God sighed. Damn you Kain, why couldn't you have thrown in Dumah? That's it, execute the awkward one. "Okay, okay. But I'm only covering up to 2 star hotels." The Elder God brightened up. "Anyway. Training. You'll need it, but I'm in no position to give you any. So be a dear and get on with it. The door's over there." A huge expansive gesture in the direction of the door with one of his tentacles caused another mountain of paperwork to go flying.

Raziel threw one last dirty look at the Elder God, and ran for the door before the Paper Avalanche could hit him. He glanced at the room instead, picked up one of the folders close to him and regarded it curiously, then the one beneath it. Ah, so they weren't in alphabetical order.

The Elder God hoped he had made the right decision. But when something that handy falls in your office, what's a god to do?

Raziel had made his way through the training rooms, growing more and more bored with each. After enduring an entire room of 'training' in operating the office kettle and ensuring the Elder God's tea only had the tiniest amount of milk in and no sugar, water poured in just as the kettle is boiling, in the 'Best God Ever' mug, he sighed and dragged himself out of the room. It seemed he'd reached the end of his basic training, at least.

One of the Elder God's tentacles snaked to the tea-training room. Carefully bringing the cup back he hesitantly tasted it, previous Tea-boys had never got it right. It was actually quite good. He had potential this one. Suddenly He remembered there was something vitally important he'd forgotten to mention, curling a tentacle around a pencil, he scribbled on a notepad, 'Souls must be eaten to be registered properly, I'm not sure how you'll do it, but I'm sure you'll make your own arrangements.' He proceeded with difficulty to take a piece of tape to the note and sent his longest tentacle through to the door of the underworld in the hope Raziel would notice it. If he didn't, it could be a very short trip.

Leaning against the wall as he had been, taking a moment to wallow in his despair and anger at the world in general, Raziel was startled to see a tentacle snake through the door and straight past him, bearing a hastily scrawled note.

He followed after it. "I'm back here." He said needlessly as he drew level with it and the note. Reaching out a hesitant claw to take the letter, he squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't like things with tentacles, or even multiple legs. Just seeing a spider made Raziel squeal like a girl and scream until one of his brothers would come and save him. Quite how he was going to work for this many tentacled, slimy looking thing, he didn't know. His hand hovered just above the note, claws wriggling. With a deep breath, he snatched at the paper.

Feeling the note being hastily snatched from his tentacle, the Elder God thanked himself, for lack of a better deity, that he could return his tentacle to a normal position. Raziel had a point. You really did need thumbs for this job.

"Souls must be eaten to be registered properly" Raziel read aloud, incredulous. "How is that supposed to work" He asked the air in general"Surely there must be somewhere more suitable for souls to go than my" He paused, realising that his anatomy was best kept as a mystery. "Anyway, I refuse to be used as storage space for your clients." With a final grunt, he made his way back to the office.

Under a small mountain of files that was threatening to collapse under it's own gravitational pull, the Elder God found the intercom system. He heard Raziel's question and was now smugly congratulating himself for investing in a way to actually answer his employees'. "You are not a 'storage space' as you so eloquently put it. You are my Assistant Registrar, my Soul Reaver. Through you I can register the souls properly. Anyway, if you don't eat, you'll keep ending up back in my office. If you would prefer a desk job rather than field assignment, let me know. I like your tea." He sounded cheerfully hopeful.

Raziel was damned – well, more damned – if he was going to spend the rest of his unlife as a tea-boy. His shoulders sagged with the weight of his defeat, and the armful of stray folders he'd not found a suitable cabinet for. "Very well." He said, and started to make his way out of the Elder God's office.

"You'll need to leave them folders here. They go a bit yellow and manky when they are taken out of the office." The Elder God shrugged, which involved a shifting of mass that made Raziel's eyes sting to watch. "Outside, to the right of the Tea-training room is an alcove. There you will find a planar portal to assist your transition into the material realm. Will yourself a body and…well, I'm not sure on the technicalities, but it works, anyway, stand on the thing and hey presto, a body. Once you have a material body, there will be a series of rooms to test your abilities. Assuming you're not an imbecile, you'll work it out." The Elder God would have raised an eyebrow if it had one. "You _do_ know how to jump?"

Raziel dropped the folders where he stood, resisting the urge to jump on them just to show how fantastic he was a it. Instead he made his way back to the tea-training room, and found the planar portal. He stood on it, squeezed his eyes shut, and willed himself a body.

Nothing happened. He shuffled his feet and tried again. Nothing. He held his arms out to the side. He stood on one leg. He pulled an over-dramatic pose that he remembered from that Dragonball cartoon Dumah had loved so much. Nothing. He stood on tip-claws and did a pirouette. His surroundings righted themselves. There was, Raziel decided, no justice.

The Elder God sniggered to himself. He loved to tweak with the portals.

_Never mind, no one but squid-face saw_, Raziel thought as he wandered into the adjacent room…_Did they?_

He was met by an absurdly large set of stairs. He jumped them. He jumped a bit more. Then he glid…glode…glided…held onto his ex-wings and floated a bit. Something like dread filled him as he dragged a block from one side of a room to the other. The Elder God was obviously struggling with previous employees if this was considered training.

The Elder God was keeping an eye on the proceedings on the security camera network. The television was conveniently situated near an eye so that it didn't get in the way of vital registration work.

Raziel had been coping well so far, but it would remain to be seen if he could cope with the correct registration of souls. He had, just by coincidence of course, two vampires up ahead that needed to be dealt with. It would be interesting to see if his agent would dispose of them, or take the alternative suggestion of trying to convince them to get married and then impale themselves after a set amount of time. The Elder God did have other agents he could dispatch to pre-arranged appointments if needs be.

Up ahead, Raziel noted the presence of two vampires. He approached them at a walk, and coughed politely to draw their attention. They looked at him, with wide, glowing, eyes.

His confidence boosted, he stepped in a little closer. "Excuse me, uh, you two. Have you ever considered the advantages of marriage and impalement? With the Elder God's new legislation, it is no longer a requirement for vampires to die immediately at the hands of his agents. They may now lead somewhat prolonged lives on his new Marriage and Impalement scheme! For example, were you two to decide to marry, you may live in relative comfort for another, say, month before you will be forced to voluntarily impale yourselves on spikes." He nodded encouragingly.

The vampires looked at Raziel in confusion, then at eachother, then back at Raziel. Then the one on the left spoke.

"Did he just say what I think he just said?" He turned to his companion.

"I think so, Brian. I think he asked if we wanted to get married." Came the reply.

The first one spoke again. "He's accusing us of being a couple of pansies, Derek."

The one called Brian turned to Raziel. "Are you calling me a pansy, mate?" He suddenly looked almost apologetic. "Ya see, I'm quite liberal minded meself, but me mate Derek ere, he's a bit sensitive, like. Wot with bein' a downright bigot an' a bit of a jerk an' all. He prob'ly won't take it too nice."

Derek, true to Brian's word, glared at Raziel. "You fink you're funny, mate? I'm gonna 'ave you!"

Brian attempted to reason with the irate Derek. "Look mate, he only asked a question ya know. There's no need ta go all loopy on 'im mate."

Derek, however, was too incensed. "The Blue Bastard called me a wuss. I ain't havin' it." Turning to Raziel, "Come on then, let's 'ave it out. I'll show ya who' the wuss." He challenged.

Brian shrugged. "He's me mate. I 'ave ta join in on 'is side, sorry." He followed his friend's lead and took up a defensive stance, claws raised.

Raziel attempted to remain polite. "I'm terribly sorry, sirs, but if I may still interest you in voluntary impalement?" They ignored him. "Well, fine then." He said moodily, and pointed a claw at Derek. "Just be glad my little brother isn't here, mister, he'd have you picking out your wedding dress before you could say 'I'm a repressed fairy'."

Seeing Derek's moment of vulnerability before his rage could catch up with his thoughts, Raziel jumped forward and took a swipe at him with his claws.

Derek staggered back from the blow. "Oi! Now I'm annoyed." Not taking his eyes from Raziel, Derek gestured to his companion. "Ready, Brain, GET 'IM!" They both lunged forward with murderous eyes. Being called Pansies was one thing, Trying to take lumps out of Derek's chest was beyond the pale.

Raziel ducked a little too late, and Brian's claws run a gash across his arm. Darting to one side he took a quick aim at Brian. Bloody Elder God, what kind of loon kept vampires in their office? Well, except other vampires.

Brian side-stepped the blow. Derek, seeing Brian's attack make contact with it's target, moved in with renewed confidence. Derek grinned. Who was the pansy now?

Raziel jumped back away from his opponents, to regain his composure. He could do this with his eyes shut – two vampires, little more than fledglings…he'd faced far worse odds. He just hadn't done it in a while. He took a step to Derek's side, then darted around behind them. To one side of the room, a beam of light shone through a window. It was worth a shot. He took a limp swipe at their backs, and ran backwards, nearer to it.

Derek turned to face Raziel, he roared in anger and gave chase. Caught up in the moment, Brian followed suit.

_A bit closer_…Raziel swatted the air in front of him hopefully, in an attempt to keep them interested in him, and not the fact he was standing on the edge of a pool of light. It wouldn't do to have them notice it now. Apart from the koi pond in the corner and the over-sized pin-boards on the walls, he couldn't see any other way of finishing them off.

Brian, too caught up in the excitement of his first real fight, ran headlong into Raziel at breakneck speed. Too late he noticed the light as his momentum, with no way of stopping in time, propelled him forward. Derek however had seen what was ahead and had managed to slow down. He watched with growing horror as Brian went careening into Raziel.

Raziel fell beneath Brian's weight. Brian had an awful lot of weight for one vampire, Raziel realised. He pushed the other vampire off him quickly, and rolled away, leaving the other to his fate. Finding his feet with some effort, he stood back up and immediately dropped into a defensive stance, facing Derek.

Derek looked on in revulsion as his best mate was fried, though not enough to take his concentration away from Raziel completely. Derek, now giving his attention fully to Raziel, started circling around him defensively. "You bloody bastard, that was my best mate."

Raziel began circling back, because it was a pretty effect, and he knew Squid-face was probably watching on the CCTV. "Was. Now he is the lingering scent of toast." He said with some satisfaction.

"Toast! I'll make toast out of you!" Derek yelled as he decided to drop the defensive posturing and go for an all out attack. The best offence being a good offence, in his opinion.

The Elder God sat munching popcorn, he had as many eyes on the TV as he could manage. This was like watching his favourite Star Trek episode, with Captain Kirk circling a particularly dangerous and hostile alien, only better. The sounds of frantic chewing filled the office.

Derek had had enough of trying to make himself dizzy. He growled and lunged at Raziel's exposed chest.

Raziel was caught off-guard, and found himself once again with claws temporarily embedded uncomfortably in what remained of his person. He really hoped the screens were fuzzy; it was humiliating to be taking such a beating on live TV. He leaped at the other vampire, all claws and scary glowing eyes. "Toast, huh? Bring it!"

The Elder God cracked up at Raziel's last line. "Nice, considering you're the one who just got hit." This was getting exciting. He wished he had friends to place bets with, especially as he knew the outcome.

Derek closed in and directed a kick at Raziel's shin. He missed by a hair's breadth, but recovered quickly and spun out of arms reach again. He kept half an eye on the water they were getting dangerously close to.

Raziel dropped into a low stance, his arms held out to his sides. Springing up, he twirled in mid-air, and aimed a swipe at Derek's head as he came in to land. It missed by half the room. Raziel hissed in annoyance. Giving up on fancy moves, he rushed at Derek, drew in as close as he could manage without getting himself torn to shreds, and headbutted the ugly git.

Derek flew backwards and landed rather nastily on a large spike. "You Sod." He groaned as he died.

The Elder God clapped to few spare tentacles. "Oh, good show, my boy. Good show." He watched to see if Raziel would feed. He'd sustained wounds so needed to. It should be worth continuing to watch to see how he would work that one out.

Raziel squinted at the two glowing green things flying idly around. They were souls. He was supposed to eat them, so as the boss could register them. He knew this, he just had no clue how to go about it.

He approached one, and made a grab for it. It slipped through his hands. So they weren't to be served with a plate of potatoes and a nice red wine, then. Shame. Experimentally, he tugged at the top of his neck-thing. It came as a cold surprise to find souls drawn to it like…things to a vacuum. He glanced down to find a small 'Hoover' logo embroidered on the inside of the material.

The Elder God's voice came over the intercom. "Get on with it, Raziel. If you're going to find Kain and your brothers', you'd better hurry it along. The door that leads towards the Sanctuary of the Clans is over there, just ahead of you. Oh, by the way, there are portals dotted all over the place, but I never switched any of them on. Can you be a dear and turn them on for me? It'll make travelling around much easier when it's done. In the meantime you'll have to walk, sorry." The sound of muted giggling filled the room.


	3. In which Melchiah learns of meatgrinders

Raziel knew very little of how offices were run; that need was one left to Rahab, who had liked sitting behind a desk and complaining loudly about silly little things.

_"This room is far too bright to work in." _

_"Oh sh-"_

_"I know, I know, but I can't move."_

_"Ah- ah!" _

_"But I can't. You see, the alignment of the desk in this room to the wall, compared to the furniture in the other rooms..." _

_"-erk! RAHAAAAB!"_

_"...and I happen to like this shade of magnolia, in contrast to the pale olive green of the carpet. Quite refreshing, perfect for -"_

_"Turel, dear, must you bleed so profusely over my armchair?"_

But he was fairly certain that the Elder God's office was not run to any level of respectability. Walking? What about company transport? Even Kain had had that. Admittedly it was only Kain who had it, but that was irrelevant. Still, this was what Raziel had been dealt, so he walked.

Though, he quickly grew bored of walking.

He scanned his surroundings. He looked at them again, with something of an accusing glare, until he was quite satisfied they were devoid of any other life. Or unlife. He raised his claws in front of him, like he was holding a sword. He dropped his stance, and swung the imaginary sword in front of him, darting back and forth, hiding in any convenient shadows.

He added sound effects.

The Sanctuary of the Clans still loomed, despite its state of decay. Away from the shadows cast by the huge edifice Thelma and Bill were standing by a bonfire nearby trying to keep warm.

"It's a bit nippy today, don't you think, dear?"

"Uh?" Bill grunted.

"I was just saying it's a bit nippy." Thelma said, adding more emphasis to her words.

"Yes, very good day for it." Bill replied absently wrapping his tartan blanket tighter around his shoulders. Thelma gave a look common to old married women the world over and went back to her knitting.

"FWSSSH!" Raziel hissed, loudly, and jumped around a large pillar, bringing the imaginary sword down. "CHHHNK!". He jumped up and rounded on yet another bonfire.

"Mind who you're jumping on, sonny. You could've frightened the lady." Said a grouchy voice.

Raziel's eyes widened. The bonfire was jealous.

Bill, having shoved Raziel from his person, brushed himself off and looked at the newcomer with suspicion.

Thelma, in the time honoured tradition of women over certain age everywhere, however instantly started fussing over Raziel. "Now Bill, don't be too hard on the lad. Poor thing looks half starved." Turning to Raziel she smiled. "Would you like some pudding dear? You look like you could use a good meal in you. Come on nearer the fire, don't be shy luvvie." She half shoved Raziel nearer the fire. "There, that's better, dear." She cooed.

He blinked at Thelma, then looked towards Bill. "Who are you?" He said dumbly. "I don't recognise your..." flayed rack of flesh? "... dentures." He blinked again, and vaguely recalled his duty to the Elder God. "They look vampiric."

'Yes, dear. We are vampires. Though Bill has gone to eating black pudding. Unfortunately the poor dear's teeth fell out some time back and the dentures aren't very good quality so they not functional." Thelma looked lovingly at her partner.

"Work just fine."Bill muttered under his breath.

"Don't be silly dear, just because the young lad's here, there's no need to be embarrassed."

Bill scowled at her, folded his arms and went to defiantly staring at the flames.

"Oh, I see." Raziel said, a little too understandingly. "So..." He said, thoughtfully, and took a long look at the pair. He prided himself on being a good salesman, and being a good salesman required tailoring his approach for each customer. He glanced up and around, finally taking in his location. "Do you live here, then?" He tried to sound interested, but the sight of the Sanctuary of the Clans in ruins was tugging at him... it had been so long...

'Ye..." Thelma's words were cut off as the ground shook.

"Sorry." Came the Elder God's voice. "Kain's failure to decently impale himself when he should have has made my job very stressful. It's given me terrible wind. I do apologise. Oh, by the way, Raziel, remember your cause."

Raziel stumbled, and looked quite thoroughly disgusted. "You should see a vet." He grumbled, and hoped it was too low for Thelma to hear.

Thelma brushed herself off from where she had stumbled. "Deary me, that's happening more lately. As I was saying, yes, we do live here. Our last residence was too cold for Bill here, here is much nicer. Brings back good memories."

He turned to her. "Yes, being here does bring back memories." He said, almost wistfully, and looked toward the remains of the building. "Another fitting tribute to its Master's corruption." He narrowed his eyes in its direction. "Well, anyway, I'd love to stay here and chat, but," He brightened, because it didn't do well to kill someone without a smile, "I wonder, I work for the Registry Office, and I am here to promote the Elder God's new Marriage and Impalement scheme. May it interest you?"

"Could do dear, tell me all about it." Thelma said, smiling.

Raziel coughed. "I take you two are already married? With the Elder God's new Marriage and Impalement scheme, it is no longer a requirement for vampires to be hunted and ruthlessly murdered by agents of the Elder God..." he explained, this time with more confidence and hand gestures, "... impale yourselves on spikes." He finished, and looked at her hopefully.

"I can understand your mistake luvvie, but me and Bill here are not married." Thelma glared over at Bill.

"No need for it." He muttered and went back to dozing, all that defiant staring having worn him out.

"So you could get married yet?" He asked. "For the sake of the register?"

"Bill. Bill, wake up you silly sod." Thelma called at Bill who was now snoring.

"Uh? Wha..?"Bill jumped at the rude awakening.

"Listen, this young man here has said we can get married rather than die now. Isn't that a good idea."

"I keep telling you, woman. I'm not marrying you. There's no point."

"Bill Dumahim." Thelma raised her voice at him."You will marry me or you will die now. And I'll help him."

"See, that's my point, woman. We already have the same clan name, we don't need to get married." Bill argued "There's no point."

"I also shared my clan name with what once ran to thousands of individuals." Thelma yelled at him. "There is every point, I want to get married. It's proper."

"Fine, fine. I've been arguing with you for centuries. If it'll shut you up moaning." He looked tired and beaten. "You'd better marry us then lad or I'll never hear the last of it. Again."

_You better marry us... _Raziel startled, though not visibly. Bloody Elder God didn't tell him he'd have to perform the ceremony too! He shuffled his feet, and looked at them. He could remember a little of that play Kain had once dragged them all to see, when his brethren were fledglings, ("_As my Lieutenants, it is necessary for you to have a healthy knowledge of the theatre_." It was the tenth on Dad's Rules) but he'd fallen asleep and only caught the '...married" at the end. Never mind, he thought, and hoped that they had as much experience with weddings as he did. Though, from the look of Thelma, if it wasn't perfect... he almost shuddered. "Erk."

"You do know how to do it lad?" Bill asked. "Just something simple, and quick." he muttered the last two words under his breath.

Thelma glared at him."Oh well." She sighed. "I've been waiting seven hundred years for this. I would have been fussy once. Now, I shall just be thankful I got what I wanted in the end."

Raziel clicked his claws and nodded. "Very well." He pushed them to stand next to each other, and took a place before them. "Simple and quick?" He asked quietly, then, "Do you agree to be married? No, don't answer, that'll only confuse things - in that case, you are. Married, that is." He would've beamed, did he have the appropriate jaws to do so.

Thelma hugged Bill who responded with a perfunctory grunt. She then turned and hugged Raziel. "Thank you, deary. What happens now?" Turning back to the long-suffering Bill. "I hope you're taking me on a honeymoon now."

Bill groaned.

"Well, it says here -" he said, pushing the tattered ruins of something that might've once been an arm guard to his wrist, and reading something from the underside of his arm, "Those who choose to take advantage of the M&I scheme will be given a maximum of one (1) afternoon to complete their lives before an Agent of the Elder God will be dispatched to oversee the act of Voluntary Impalement."

Bill looked positively upbeat. "Sounds good to me." He winked at Raziel. "If you ever live with someone for seven centuries, you'll understand lad."

Thelma looked slightly more downcast. "I would have liked to see the Lake of Serenity, and the Lake of Tears at some point, but I've got what I wanted so I can die happy." She sighed and gave Raziel a heartfelt smile. "Thank you young man."

"You're quite welcome." He said, and attempted a smile again. He stood for a moment, occasionally nodding or generally acknowledging the existence of the newly-weds. He folded his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels, and looked around absent-mindedly. After a long moment he asked, "So, do you suppose he'll be sending along another agent to ensure you're impalement, or will I have to wait here until evening?" He kicked the ground, meaningfully.

As Thelma hugged onto him with an air of contentment, Bill looked almost pleadingly at Raziel.

"Feel free to finish it now lad, I don't mind not having to wait." The meaning of the statement was unmistakable. The centuries with Thelma had been long ones. For Bill, dying was an improvement.

Raziel shrugged. "If you want." He scratched the back of his head, and wandered over to pull a spear from the wall. He handed it to Bill. "It might be awkward, but it's company policy that it must be voluntary in every way, unless you fail to it, in which case I will have to force you to give me permission to do it by means of threat of impalment or impaling you should you refuse." He gestured to his left arm.

Bill backed away a few steps for a run up.

"Hold the spear out straight lad, that's it." Bill started running at the spear, arms in the air holding his tartan blanket like a flag. "Freedom!" He yelled as the spear impaled his chest.

Thelma looked at Raziel with an anxious look. "I...I..don't think I can do that." She said. "Can I give you permission to do it for me?"

Raziel opened one eye, and peered at Thelma. "Certainly." He said, apparently unperturbed. "I'll go get you a fresh spear." He dropped Bill's at his feet. After a moment he returned with a new one. "It was nice meeting you." He said, and quite suddenly, and as sympathetically as he could manage, impaled her on it.

"Thank you, dear" She wheezed as she died.

Raziel place the spear carefully to the ground, and turned his attention to the two floating green souls. Funny, he hadn't realised just how peckish he had been.

"Well done Raziel." The Elder God thought this was a good time to talk to his new employee. He felt that the staff generally needed motivating and was currently testing the concept of being pro-active, and trying to encourage this quality in his workforce. "I feel that you are fast becoming a valued member of the team. But you really must get a move on, lots to do you know!"

Raziel looked down, frantically staring at his feet, as he was becoming used to doing every time the Elder God spoke. "Just don't send me on any team-building outings." He warned, and shook a claw at the ground. Satisfied, he went on in the direction of his clan territory. With any luck, his wardrobe, and spare trousers, might have still been in tact.

Beneath the wooden bridge, the waters of the Turbo Spin Cycle circled ceaselessly. The sound of the churning waters filled the air and there was no washing to be seen. Raziel stared down at it. He frowned, sulkily.

"So Kain never did reinstall it closer to Rahab." He whined, "Though much of Nosgoth has changed, we must still endure the humiliation of our dirty washing being spectacle to all." He noted the absence of any clothes within the vortex. "Obviously my clan is yet to learn how to bring their own washing down here. Little buggers."

The cliffs surrounding the Turbo Spin Cycle were high and foreboding. Except the bits that weren't.

Ahead of him, his clan territory loomed. Although it didn't loom quite as well as most of Nosgoth's architecture. He stopped at the gate.

"I'm back!" He called. There was no reply, except the wind, which sounded almost as foreboding as the cliffs looked. "Hello?" He tried again, quieter. It looked empty... lifeless, but that wasn't real, was it? The Razielim were just a little messy. "... I brought innocent villagers?" He said, though his voice was little less than a whisper.

He narrowed his eyes at two stray Dumahim, and growled: "My children, angsty little gits they were, gone; just like my trousers, both pairs, which are also gone." He pushed the Dumahim into their bonfire and kicked them for dying, just like everyone else seemed to have.

The Elder God was bored. He decided now was another good time to try this dynamic employee management again. " It's become a bit of a fixer-upper these days hasn't it. The Dumahim living here weren't really into home improvements. Let the destruction of your children fuel you need for registering. Melchiah awaits in that place above what they call the garden of the dead. Garden I tell you, how inaccurate a description can you give something. The Melchahim have no idea. Gardens are places with flowers and grass and lawns and small fountains usually of a naked person of some description and..." The rant continued faintly and 'garden shed' was mentioned at least twice.

Raziel listened patiently for a while, as it eased the anguish of seeing his children crushed to the ground, and he wasn't in any mood for a deep inner monologue. Then he decided that listening to his own voice whimper 'nobody knows the trouble I've seen, nobody knows my sorrow...' was far more entertaining, so he did that instead, until he found himself on the edge of Melchiah's garden.

It could only have been Melchiah's garden, as no one else he knew would have a large pavement stone, with 'Welcome to my Garden' etched into it alongside a picture of a flower, propped up against the gate. He tripped over a fishing gnome and landed in what may have once been a pond, if the moss covered remains of a large plastic flamingo were anything to go by.

Yes, it was Melchiah's garden.

There were two what looked possibly to be vampires standing next to the body of an unfortunate human. "Dibs on the arm. I scuffed my elbow earlier".

"Only if I get the right leg" said the other.

"Okay, it's a done deal."

Noticing the intruder, the two creatures turned with a snarl. "This body is ours. Get your own supplies."

Raziel recoiled, and did next what came most naturally.

"_Eeeeew_!"

Both of the Melchahim rushed at Raziel with quite obviously the intention of causing his person distress just to add to the mental distress they were currently causing.

"AH! No! Stop! I have no flesh! I have no flesh! You can't steal it if there's nothing to steeaal!" He lowered his arms from in front of his face. They had yet to make it halfway across the garden. Raziel watched them for a while. Repulsive though they were, they were also after him, albeit slowly. Enough, he decided as he picked up a shovel, and ran at them.

Having a shovel, flat side, smashed into the face causing a loss of balance and a fall into a conveniently located bonfire is not conducive to survival. Unfortunately for the other one, neither is a large spike to the ribcage.

Raziel steeped back from the terrible mess he'd made, picked up another rusty shovel just in case, and made his way into Melchiah's stronghold. Hopefully his brother wasn't as ugly as them.

Melchiah dragged his body around to the other side of the room to closer inspect his latest contraption. How he actually managed to do anything was beyond even him, or why he'd had the sudden urge to build a giant meat-grinder. That was definitely a decision he'd made at two o'clock in the morning having fed from someone with too high a dose of caffeine in his or her system. Just what the hell did he need a giant meat-grinder for anyway?

Flummoxed. Raziel thought it a good word for how he felt. He'd done a lot of climbing, jumping, and all sorts of stuff, but he was stuck in the same room. He pulled a block out from the wall, and pushed it to somewhere else. Then another block. Then another. And some more after that. Obviously Melchiah's taste in personal security was as good as his taste in garden decoration. His claws ached.

Melchiah sat and done a crossword puzzle while he waited for Raziel. He'd spoken previously to the Master and had been informed that Raziel would pay him a visit. He was somewhat suprised at the news. Vampires didn't normally come back from the Turbo Spin Cycle, sometimes it was seen as a miracle if the clothes came back. Socks normally didn't.

Melchiah would have obviously been lurking as far underground as he could be, because Melchiah was odd like that, so Raziel made his way down towards his youngest brother's chamber. He coughed, and knocked on the door.

"In here" a voice replied.

He opened the door, and sneakily stepped inside. "Afternoon, creature."

"Who you calling creature?" the indignant voice again replied.

"Melchiah!" It almost sounded surprised. "Ah, I knew it was you, but I've noticed that Nosgoth is full of those -" he gestured at the security camera on the wall, " - and knowing that the one watching is also the one in charge of my holidays and hotel fees, I have to make it look good at important times. Just in case he's feeling generous. We don't get company transport, you see."

"I'd complain about that if I were you. Do you have a union? By the way, you're looking a bit skinny since I saw you last." Melchiah looked at his elder brother.

"And you're looking a bit like a giant, decomposing mass." Raziel grunted. "Anyway, my clan, what did you do to them? And my spare trousers? Where are they?"

"Yeah, I know I can't say anything. I'm glad I'm no longer in possession of a mirror. In answer to your questions, nothing and I have no idea. You would have done better to stay in the wash. The worlds gone quite uggy from what I've heard. Besides, do you really think the Master would risk his empire on some radio interference?"

Melchiah looked at Raziel knowingly. Raziel appeared not to notice, and continued to speak, waving his arms in the air.

"I assure you neither I or my children would have ever stooped to perching on the cable wires, so there would have been no radio interference. Anyway, I would have made them special perches and nesting boxes did they show sign of it. And however uggy the world is, I have seen enough cleanliness to last me an absurdly long lifetime. I now understand the meaning of whiter than white when it remains to be only white in the end; which completely defeats the object of Kain throwing me in the washing machine, anyway, as with that information I have surpassed every living being, including him."

"Raz, you were supposed to say about me talking in riddles to that last comment, then I could have gone, 'Ah!' and nodded my head knowingly and all mysterious looking. Now you've totally ruined it." Melchiah looked exasperated and unhappy. "It's unfair, that as the youngest, I never get things to work the way I want them to." He pulled himself over toward the meat-grinder. "I invented this, and I can't get it to work either. It's a conspiracy." He said sullenly.

Raziel nearly looked sympathetic. "Sorry Mel, you just aren't the type to speak in riddles. But this," he said, looking up at the meat-grinder, "this is a riddle. Why did you invent a meat-grinder?"

"I don't know really. I just did." Melchiah looked slightly sheepish. "I wanted to build something large and impressive, and Dad normally finds some obscure reason on his 'list' as to why I can't do it. I found nothing on the list pertaining to meat-grinders. So I presume I just thought, why not?"

"Rule Number Forty-Three:" Raziel recited, a distant look in his eyes, "Under No Circumstances Is Zephon To Use The Cheese Grater Without A Permission Slip From Dad And Supervision From Older/Braver/Larger/Less Squeamish Brother." He shook his head, "About as close as his rules come. It's... impressive, though." Raziel did admire it, perhaps because it was the most random creation in Nosgoth. "It doesn't work, though?"

Melchiah shook his head sadly. "I've tried everything, but I'm not having any success." He walked directly underneath it, looked up at it and then gestured with difficulty to a handle on the wall. "That handle is supposed to activate it, but somewhere along the system there must be a fault." He smiled. "I do remember that rule. But it applied to Zephon anyway." Melchiah pulled a face at the thought of his youngest elder brother. "He always was gross."

"You never had to supervise him with the cheese grater." Raziel shuddered. "That handle? Want me to try it?" Raziel asked, and walked over to it, picking at one of the wires behind it.

"Thanks Raz, though I don't suppose it'll do much good."

"It's worth a try." He said, and with some effort, pulled the lever. A low creaking noise filled the room. "Something happened."

"Not much though" Melchiah said despondently. "I don't think it's ever going to work."

"I'll try this one." Raziel hurried over to the other side of the room and pulled the other lever.

"Still nothing, Brother. But thanks for trying."

Raziel stood back and examined the lever, attempting to pull it back up again. "I think you're right." He said. "I'll try this one, anyway." He said, and wandered over to the last lever in the room. He pulled on it.

Melchiah looked up then realised he could never get his body out of the way in time. "Well, that's done it." With one last smile his final words were "The bloody handles just needed to be released."

Raziel turned away, deeming the sight to be one that might have made even his new youngest brother squirm. Particularly as Melchiah had smiled as he died; Raziel would never accuse Melchiah's offspring of being ugly again after seeing that wretched, lipless, tragic little smile.

Melchiah's soul, unfettered from his body, tried to make a run for it, in a non-running kind of way.

Raziel was rather regretting filling up on Dumahim. He choked.

Melchiah's soul tasted as good as he had looked in life.


	4. In which Kain's sword goes limp

Thank you to all our reviewers. Individual notes and such at the bottom.

Chapter 4

"Well done, Raziel." Came the ridiculously happy voice of the Elder God. "Now you have the wonderfully useful ability to walk through metal bars and such. But don't try phasing through anything solid." The Elder God added ominously. "The last incident of that was not pretty. If you're done here, can you pop back to the office? I have something for you."

Raziel quirked an ex-eyebrow. "Am I not allowed to mourn the passing of my dignity first? Or brother, even. Yes, am I not allowed to mourn the death of poor Melchiah? Always the fat, bald kid at Kain's councils?"

He listened for a moment, though the Elder God appeared to have gone to wherever the Elder God went to when he wasn't watching Raziel.

"Fine." He grunted, and stormed up to the metal barred gate. He regarded it for a moment, shrugged, turned sideways, and shuffled himself through one of the gaps. Briefly he wondered what all the fuss was about.

The Elder God had heard Raziel's comment, but didn't deign to give an answer due to the remarkable discovery he had made. On a musty nearly forgotten about shelf at the back of the office the Elder God found what he considered treasure. He was now frantically leafing through a book titled 'Energetic Enterprising for the Adroit with extra chapter on 'enthusing your staff''. The Elder God was, contradictory to his location, now in heaven.

Raziel made his way to the nearest giant door-thing, as he had come to name the portals, and selected his destination. After a moment, a chirpy female voice informed him that the portal had been delayed by a Turelim on the line, and normal service would resume next Tuesday. With a sigh, Raziel stepped off the platform, twirled prettily into the Spectral Realm, and threw himself at the nearest angry slaugh. Moments later, he found himself no worse for wear, seated on a uncomfortable chair in the Elder Gods waiting room. Across from him, a small slaugh was pushing wooden beads back and forth over a metal... thing, apparently highly amused by the toy. Raziel sighed again, and dropped his elbows onto his knees. He hummed a sad little tune.

"Raziel, what are you doing in the waiting room? Come in my boy. Ignore the slaugh out there, I am. It's apparently a representative of theirs. They want to negotiate a truce and a sharing of souls equally, so I'm now having hell with the union. It's a long story." The Elder God waved a tentacle dismissively, as if to wave the problem away. This wasn't the best way to inspire the staff and promote confidence in their employer. He sighed, he really needed to read more of that book. "You need to go back to the Sanctuary of the Clans as I have had word that Kain is currently there."

"Kain?" Raziel snarled, completely forgetting all the other things he had intended to complain about, "Finally." he said to himself, and barged off in what he hoped was the right direction, all vengeance and indignation. It hadn't occurred to him that, despite how much he complained, grumbled and whined, he was becoming increasingly like a wind-up toy. All the Elder God had to do was say a name and a location, point him in the right direction, and marvel at the mess that ensued.

The Elder God watched his little blue minion stomp out of the office. "I'm so glad I had finished talking to you." He said.

Raziel paused. He spun on his heel and stood in the doorway, hopping impatiently from foot to foot, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to find Kain behind him, running for the door, never to be seen again. "There was something else?"

"Just that you need to visit Zephon next. There was something else, but you've made me forget now."

Raziel blinked. "Zephon? No one's killed him already? Rahab promised he would do it - really, honest to Kain, promised he would, after the rope and scissors incident..." Raziel twitched. "Oh well."

"No, unfortunately your brother is alive and well in the undead sense of the word. As for that promise, how can you expect any less from that degenerate race? I presume you know where to find him?" The Elder God asked.

Raziel scowled at his feet. "Is he still trying to glue himself to the walls of his bedroom? He was always too busy 'experimenting' to notice that the rest of us moved out of Dad's nine hundred years before. We didn't bother reminding him."

The Elder God didn't inquire to what 'experimenting' Zephon got up to. "No, Raziel. He is no longer in Sanctuary. He lives in a rather large Cathedral to the east, can't miss it unless you look in the wrong place. Maybe he's glued himself to the wall there?"

"Oh. Oh, good for him." Raziel twitched his claws impatiently. "Can I go exact revenge on Kain now?"

"Oh, yes. Run along. I have books to get back to." The Elder God turned his eye previously fixed on Raziel back to his book, excitedly engrossed in his latest project to improve services. "Ooo, the possibilities..." He murmured to himself.

Raziel peered at the Elder God curiously, feeling mildly disturbed by his fascination with the book. He backed out of the door, and, when he was quite certain he was out of sight of the Elder God (though that was quite a feat, taking the small eyeballs that lined the walls), broke into a wild run, and didn't stop until he standing on the edge of the Sanctuary of the Clans.

The inside of the Sanctuary was seemingly silent, but the Dumahim had got into everywhere of late and the Sanctuary was no exception. Kain sat on his throne, annoyed with his third son. Was nowhere sacred anymore?

Raziel shuffled sideways through a gateway, silently mocking Melchiah's supposedly special talent. It hadn't occurred to him that Melchiah had been three times his size and so had required another method of phasing through gates, and perhaps he was misinterpreting this ability.

Ahead of him, two Dumahim awaited... something. For a second his hand rested on the edge of his arm-covering, where his long speech was written, but only for long enough for him to acknowledge that his previous encounters with Dumahim had been incredibly awkward, and it would be easier, and produce the same results, did he just sneak over there and stab them pointy objects.

Grabbing a spear from the wall, he charged at them. They charged back. They fought, dramatically. Loud, unexplainable, apocalyptic music played.

Kain sat there listening to his gramophone, polishing the Tube Reaver unnecessarily with a teatowel. He liked listening to music here, the sound echoed well off the stone walls and could be heard clearly around the entire of the Sanctuary of the Clans

"YAAAAAAAH!"

Raziel ducked, as yet another Dumahim charged at him. It tripped, flew over his head, and landed in a pool of water. Raziel had always wondered why Kain liked to keep large ponds in places where large ponds really weren't acceptable. Places like near Kain. He didn't ponder it for long, as another Dumahim threw itself at him, with a cry of "SQUISH!"; Dumah's own favourite warcry. He ducked again, and spun low to the ground, kicking a leg out. The Dumahim tripped over him, and landed heavily on the ground. Raziel threw his weight at the half-dead Dumahim, forcing it off the edge of the bridge, to a soggy death.

Raziel stood, dusted himself off, and continued nonchalantly on his way, following the sound of the music.

Kain watched his eldest walk through the door. "Raziel."

"Kain." Raziel spat his name.

"Raziel."

"Kain."

"The wash has turned you blue."

"You still roll in grass."

"What I choose to do with my time, is my decision, child." Kain retorted.

"And what I do with my time is your decision, too, I suppose? And my clan's time? And my trousers time? Your acts of destruction are incon - unconc - unconsin - bad! Very, very bad!" Raziel shook a claw at Kain.

"It would seem that you need me to decide, Raziel. You cannot find your trousers, you cannot even articulate the words necessary to verbally attack me. Whereas I need no words to chastise you." With that, Kain raised the recently polished Tube Reaver and having decided to forgo grace or subtlety, struck Raziel over the head with it, hard. Kain watched looking smug as Raziel was knocked into the spectral realm and he dropped the now bent and limp Tube Reaver to the floor. Kain teleported to wherever he deemed it was necessary to go.

Having a Tube Reaver meet with one's head in a very sudden, strong, downward motion does not do much for the health and well being. The cardboard of the Tube Reaver being industrial strength.

For a moment, Raziel didn't move. When he did, it was only to wonder why he was now laying on the floor in spectral realm, and what had happened to the field of buttercups he'd been running through, calling to Kain to lend him money for new trousers. After a moment, the reality of his situation came back to him, and he regarded the limp, bent Reaver before him. Kain's last words floated back to him.

"Smug bastard, he knows how bad I am at tag, and to do that without even telling me he was being It or counting to a hundred? Oh well, I'm It now." Raziel quickly blamed his monologue on the concussion.

The Elder God's dulcet tones filled the room. "Raziel, Stop being off with the fairies and look at the Reaver will you. This will be useful for you. Could make the whole process a lot quicker you know."

Raziel grumbled something about fairies, and turned his attention to the Reaver. "It can't be useful. It's gone soggy." He stated.

"Not the physical blade, you can't pick that up anyway. Do you deliberately try my patience or is it just a natural gift?" The Elder God said good-naturedly. He'd been redecorating his office and felt he was on to something. His good mood was practically unshakable.

Raziel was particularly disturbed by the Elder God's perkiness. "Yes, I do actually. What am I supposed to do now, take it and beat my enemies with a lump of limp, mysteriously glowing, cardboard?"

"It's the mysteriously glowing bit you're supposed to take notice of, numbskull. Did you're brain burn away in the wash too?" The Elder God refused to be irritated by Raziel's obtuseness. "Just get on with it."

"Alright, alright." Raziel huffed. He stepped closer to the mysteriously glowing thing and poked it. It attached itself to him.

"This is mildly concerning."

"You and the Wraith Tube are joined at the arm, so to speak. It will help you collect souls for registering more efficiently. Now, have fun and go get Zephon." The Elder God returned to his book. He was mildly irked that Kain had got away, but still too happy to let it get to him. This new weapon of Raziel's would remedy the situation soon enough.

"It itches." Raziel whined, and shook his arm as if to shake it off. The coils of energy curling around his arm tightened in protest. With an irked, wordless whine, he reluctantly set off to find Zephon. Maybe, hopefully, his brother had calmed down by now, or at least successfully super-glued himself to the wall.

The Elder God looked up from his book. "Shut up, Raziel."

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the other ones, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. The last one was a bit too long. Okay, sorry the last chapter wasn't as funny. We hope this one is back on form. Please review and let us know how we're getting on, it's our readers that give us the incentive to carry on so let us know you're reading and what you think.

On to the reviews:

BahamutEpyon: We do, that's why we wrote this. It's responsible for this madness.

BearVsChris: Thank you smiles

SammyBlack: Thank you to you as well Smiles again

RockyShoreline: Thank you as well. The cockney vampires were just begging to be done, mainly because it gave Raziel something else to do but aimlessly swipe at vampires heads until he ran into Melchiah. You're reviews, as always are cherished J

Jycei: I have already answered you…XD

Ancient-v: I hope your stomach has stopped hurting :D When's this blood bank raid happening?

Darster: Thanks, We're glad you are enjoying it…there's more to come.

Smoke: What can I say? Monty Python, wow, there is no higher praise than that in my book. Being the huge fan of it that I am. grins stupidly

Shadow Whisper: Cheers : Don't get kicked out of the library reading this one…XD

To everyone else who's reading this but hasn't reviewed: Thanks, if you've got time, drop us a line and tell us what you think, criticism is welcome too you know.


	5. In which Zephon's eggs are cooked

Reviewer responses:

Smoke: Thanks for reviewing again. Good line wasn't it? I can't take credit for that one, which was Clodpool's fantastic work.

Darster: Glad you're still with us. Yep, we have something planned for Rahab. In the rough version of this, it was my favourite death out of all of them. As to the Elder God, eventually all will be revealed!

TUBE REAVER-chapter 5

"Below the trees, above the river, left of a lake wanders a long suffering ghoul of one sided beauty." The voice came from a spectral woman drifting around the pillars. Startled from her reverie, she turned to see what had so rudely disturbed her. "A nightmare apparent of the blue variety. Do you come to vex and rile me like that viridian malignant spirit you most likely call master?"

Raziel stopped mid-step, and turned to face his new excuse for company. "Sorry to disturb you," he said, eyeing the spirit warily, "I didn't mean to. I'll leave you to enjoy your thesaurus in peace. Kain never liked me disturbing his Thesaurus Time, either." He added.

"Ahh, my thesaurus is as ethereal and insubstantial as my own unearthly form, therefore as ineffectual and insipid as its owner, therefore unimportant. The continuing existence of Kain is the cause of my continued suffering throughout these many long years. He refused the sacrifice and thus condemned me to angst with nothing but my thesaurus for companionship." Ariel lamented, profusely.

Raziel nodded sympathetically. "Kain condemned me to eternal angst, as well as many other things. Just be thankful he let you keep your dress."

"Then we are uncommonly similar. Come speak with me when you get lost. Ariel forgets at times what others remember and when I remember I am mystically vague..." She vanished behind a pillar.

Raziel breathed a sigh of relief, and made a run for it before she came back again. He paused in the doorway, taking a second to recall the whereabouts of his second youngest brother's domain, before deciding that following the nearest trail of strange and horrific... things, might earn him more luck than his memory. Reluctantly, he made his way forward.

The Elder God had conveniently put a series of small signposts up to help Raziel find his way to Zephon's domain. He didn't trust that magniloquent spectre Ariel to tell Raziel anything the boy would understand. The fact that Raziel had spent a millenium as one of the ruling class of Nosgoth and still didn't know his way around what was essentially his own back yard, was concerning the Elder God, though not too much, due to his cheerful, if somewhat neurotic disposition.

Perhaps the Elder God was good for something, Raziel wondered as he passed the third, somewhat slimy looking, signpost. Above him loomed the Silenced Cathedral, and in front of him, a gate. He shifted into spectral realm phased through it, and shifted again into the material realm. Ahead of him, a pale, hideous beast stalked across a stone platform. Raziel deemed that Zephon's children were far too ugly to be married and so would have to be impaled, and far too ugly to still be wear trousers uncomfortably similar to those Raziel was so sorely missing. In a fit of jealous rage, he jumped and threw the offending Zephonim into a convenient pool of water.

Zephon was everywhere, or so he believed. How accurate this was, the Zephonim were unsure and didn't like to speculate, but they knew their master's knowledge was reasonably far reaching. Currently this far-reaching knowledge was aware of Raziel's presence in his territory. He was not happy. He hated Raziel beyond words, Raziel had always got the top bunk as he'd refused to share with anyone else as Zephon was the only one that didn't snore. Zephon sent two elder vampires to check the Cathedral's security measures were in place.

Raziel sneaked until he came to something like a courtyard, but for the large buildings in the middle of it. His brother had always had strange taste in decor, Raziel remembered, Zephon was usually the target of Rahab's relentless 'style lectures'.

Ahead of him, he found a Zephonim climbing up and down a wall. Perhaps the vampire was trying to glue himself there. With minimal effort (at least, he had hoped for minimal effort when he jumped at the creature, until he found that the Zephonim was quite an accomplished fighter himself and Raziel felt mildly humiliated and slightly bruised) he dispatched the vampire, and went about finding his way into the heart of the Cathedral.

The two Zephonim had meticulously checked the blocks and decided that they were arranged haphazardly enough that it should frustrate even the most dedicated of puzzle enthusiasts. From what they had heard of the former lieutenant from their master, he should fail to work out where even the first block should go. Then there was all the business with the pipes. The situation should be hopeless.

Raziel found himself in the centre of a small room, filled with blocks, and a Zephonim vampire in one corner, apparently taking too much amusement from his confusion to even raise a claw at him. Raziel glared at him. "And I suppose you think you could do better?"

The Zephonim made no reply. With a resigned sigh, Raziel took a spear and impaled the thing on it, then got to solving the puzzle.

After much work, one block sat there obstinately like it was staring at Raziel, refusing to fit anywhere.

Raziel kicked it. It sat there. He kicked it again. It sat there. He took a step back, made a loud, growly noise, and threw himself at it. Despite the chips of rock, sparks, and noises of protest from the stone itself, the block fit. Raziel danced triumphant little dance, and headed to find the next obstacle.

The remaining Zephonim had been tending the pipes for many centuries. It was a job he undertook with loving care. Everything was oiled and rust spots were made artistically to look as natural as possible. He could have just left them to do it themselves, but that would have been easy, and he would have spent all this time very bored. He took great pride in their artistic perfection and the safety they afforded his lord. He patted the nearest one lovingly and hugged it.

Three block puzzles later, Raziel was getting perhaps more than a little fed up with them. He'd been back and forth around the Cathedral, he thought, pulling and pushing at blocks until his claws could take no more. He had taken some amusement from the large fans Zephon had installed, but after a while they made him dizzy and messed up his hair far too much for his liking. He whined, tragically, and went for what he hoped would be the last puzzle.

The Zephonim decided that as there was no sign of his master's sibling, he had obviously failed at the first puzzle as expected. He decided to go find some lunch.

Sneak. Sneak. Sneaksneak. Sneaksneaksneak. Stop. Wait. Pounce. Raziel landed heavily on the back of the Zephonim, rolled straight over him, and jumped upright, claws held high in front of him. He'd let this one live long enough to find out where Zephon was hiding - or how to solve the puzzle in the room nearby, whichever happened first.

The Zephonim snarled in anger at being jumped on and turned and spun round, his own claws at the ready.

Raziel lowered his stance and circled the Zephonim. "Either you tell me where Zephon is, or I'll have to give you a lengthy legal lecture concerning the Elder God's Marriage and Impalement scheme, until you crack and marry-" your cultivated rust patches? No, far too tempting "- your reflection."

"And how are you going to do that? I would never betray my master." The Zephonim looked defiant.

Raziel was taken aback, confused, hurt, and emotionally damaged. "I'll sing at you!" Raziel looked yet more defiant.

In the face of that amount of defiance and the threat of singing, the Zephonim cracked. "Okay, I'll talk. My master is right at the top the Cathedral, and you just need to push this pipe, so it falls on that one. Can I go now? I have rust that needs tending, please."

Raziel would have liked to have pouted, as he had done many years ago when he had the appropriate lips to do so. He liked singing. He sighed instead. "Alright, thanks." He said, drew the glowing, soggy excuse of the damp cardboard Reaver, and hit the Zephonim over the head with it as he made to run. He set to work on the pipes, and making his way to the top of the Cathedral.

Zephon was even less happy. Despite everything, he could feel Raziel getting closer. He cursed his minions and decided that if they weren't already dead, then he was going to kill them.

Raziel prepared himself for the worst, and stepped through the open double doors. The room seemed empty, but then Zephon had probably duct-taped himself into a corner somewhere. Unless he too had changed as Melchiah had done. An odd thought, Raziel decided. He didn't think Zephon would suit another body. Or maybe he just didn't need one - he was scary enough even as a somewhat scrawny vampire.

"His highness has come back." Came a high pitched, slightly excitable and sarcastic voice from somewhere near the ceiling. "It seems you have gone blue, you seem to have lost your trousers, and most of your waistline as well. That is very careless of you little Raziel. Not that it matters, you don't exactly have the legs for your trousers anymore." There was a vindictive edge to the voice too.

Raziel glared. "At least, brother, I did once have the legs for those trousers. You never did. Anyway, you dare criticise me with that voice? Did you swallow that cheese grater after I was thrown into the abyss?"

"If it was not for this voice I would be overwhelmingly intimidating, even for Kain. But I keep my voice like this as I would never betray my father, unlike someone I could mention."

Zephon paused for dramatic effect. "Do you not see the success of my years of experimenting." The voice became even more excitable. "I have become one with the building. I am like the spider in the web, only better. I am the web too. Cool huh? You never did anything that impressive." Zephon smirked, possibly. Raziel couldn't tell on that face. "I've even found that it is possible to be able to lay eggs and still feel like the epitome of masculinity."

Raziel cringed. "Zephon, please - too much information! Anyway, I have done far more impressive things than getting caught in drying concrete - I grew wings! I survived the Abyss and got a free t-shirt for doing so. I maintained my dashingly effeminate good looks for a thousand years without a single wrinkle. I won the first Nosgoth sports day sack race. And you, Zephon, are proud of finally attaching yourself to the inside of a building after all these years?"

"Did you notice the word 'effeminate' there? Whereas I have my roguish masculinity and I would still look good in trousers if they made them in my size. Anyway, enough of this." Zephon was aware that despite Raziel's self-confessed effeminate looks remark, he was still losing this argument. "You only won that race because you tied everyone else's legs together when they weren't looking. So, what do you want, and when are you going away again?"

"I'm here to kill you, and when you are dead, and I have stolen your wallet, and eaten that nasty little soul of yours and picked the tough bits from my teeth, I'll leave." Raziel folded his arms. "Is that very well with you?"

"And what in Nosgoth would you do with my wallet? You couldn't even carry it. I'm a lot bigger than you now, Brother. As are my finances. You can try to kill me, but I'll probably just eat you, come here crumb."

"Alright then, Mister I-lay-Eggs-and-Don't-Have-A-Problem-With-This-Because-I'm-So-Weird." Raziel said, and then decided that perhaps he wasn't so good at name-calling after all. "You can't intimidate me with rumours of your gargantuan wallet!" He charged forward and aimed a swipe at the nearest part of Zephon, which happened to be a leg.

Zephon raised one of his spider-like legs and poked Raziel in the back with it. "Father has a wallet more to your size you know. You don't have to feel inadequate to me, though it is perfectly natural."

Raziel frowned and stumbled forward. He spun around quickly and took another swipe at the attack- poking leg. "Be quiet, you. And I do not feel inadequate, Zephon, I feel liberated. Without my own finances, I do not have to concern myself with papers and forms and accounts, I am a free man, free to steal the wallets of other's, live recklessly day-to-day in a constant whirlwind of untaxed freedom. If the Elder God would only let me, anyway." He added, sadly.

"What do you intend to achieve with this whirlwind of financial freedom?" Zephon sneered. "You don't have a clue what your waist size is anymore." He winced slightly as Raziel caught one of his legs. He laid an egg and coughed. Embarrassed.

Raziel stopped in his tracks and stared at the egg. "That's disgusting. Do they hatch?" He looked up to were he supposed Zephon's face was, "Anyway, I can easily find out my waist size - someone is bound to have a tape measure."

"I know who does, but I'm not telling you." Zephon looked smug.

"Who?" Raziel demanded, and clawed at another leg.

"I'm not telling you!" Zephon pulled his leg back just out of Raziel's reach.

"Tell me!" He lashed out again.

"No. Never." Zephon sounded even more like a petulant child.

"I'll guess." Raziel threatened weakly. "It's Dumah, isn't it?"

"Hah! No! See, you're not that clever." Zephon shot out another leg catching Raziel across the shoulder. "Just like that stupid human over there that failed to kill me as well."

Raziel spun around to see the human laying face down by the doorway, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as best he could. "I'm sure Rahab would have things to say about your choice of rugs, Zephon." Raziel snarked, and ran to said corpse. He lifted the still flaming torch from its hands.

"It didn't help him. It won't help you either."

Raziel looked mildly disappointed. "Oh. In that case, if you tell me who has the tape measure, I'll leave you alone, and come back and kill you later when I have discovered how to do so."

"Why would I want to do that? If you can't kill me now then that gives me no incentive to tell you anything." Zephon glanced at his egg sitting over in the corner and idly wondered why it hadn't combusted yet. They normally did.

Raziel rolled his eyes. At least, he thought he would have liked to. "Alright, fine." He followed Zephon's gaze to the egg. An idea, a horrific, nasty, repulsive as Zephon himself, idea began to drift together like possessed puzzle pieces in the back of his mind.

Zephon glared at Raziel. He didn't like the look in Raziel's eyes. For two glowing sockets they could be quite expressive.

Raziel sneaked up to the egg, looked up at Zephon, and back at the egg. Then, quickly, he grabbed hold of it and scurried up to the top corner of the room, where he placed the egg on the floor and regarded it for a long while.

"What are you doing?" Zephon had expected to be the victor of a battle of epic proportions, not to sit waiting while his brother seemed to studying an embarrassing by-product of his body. Zephon thought he was supposed to be the gross one. How times had changed.

Raziel looked to Zephon again, and grinned somehow. Quite how he grinned without a lower jaw even he didn't know, but he did anyway. Not taking his glowing eyes from Zephon, he poked the egg with a stick, and said 'Cooooool'. Torturing his younger sibling was fun. Revenge was sweeter than he had imagined.

Zephon looked at Raziel with confusion. "Is that your great plan, you're going to mock me to death? Impressive, I hope you have a lot of patience."

Raziel growled. "If you'd just roll over and die you could save us both so much time and effort."

"Yes! I'm indestructible. I knew plastering myself to the ceiling was a good idea. Though there was a bit of a panic last week when the smoke alarms went off."

"Oh Zephon, grow up and stop being such a megalomaniac." Raziel grunted. "I'll go ask Rahab about the tape measure, at least he's a nice, sensible boy. Dad always used to say you should be more like Rahab..." With that and many other mumbled comments, he turned around and flung the torch over his shoulder.

The torch landed by the egg, which set alight and rolled to the base of Zephon's body where it exploded and sent Zephon up in flames. His last words were lost to the sound of flames roaring and smoke alarms going off. Silenced Cathedral had been a more poetic name rather than an accurate one.

Raziel turned where he stood in the doorway, feeling mildly surprised. Then he shrugged, and felt mildly sad and relieved at the passing of his brother, until his peckishness got the better of him.


	6. In which interior designers get owned

A/N: Well, better late than never I suppose. Thanks for the reviews.

"Well done again Raziel" The Elder God's perpetually cheerful voice filled Zephon's chamber. "Now you have the wonderful ability to climb. I mean, I know you could climb before, but you can climb bigger things than trees, if there were any trees..." The Elder God's voice trailed off. "Anyway, go climb places you couldn't get to before because nobody liked them so never built stairs and see what you can find. See it as a temporary holiday sort of thing."

Raziel blinked, not entirely sure of what the Elder God was rambling on about. "Very well." He murmured, and examined his claws. So he could climb now? Over a thousand years worth of evolution and the best Zephon had managed was climbing? Then again, it was fairly tame, and tameness in relation to Zephon was better than anyone could hope for. With a shrug, Raziel set off to find a way out.

The pipes of the Silenced Cathedral creaked as if in mourning for their master. Though it was more likely that Zephon's body weight now removed from the top of the building allowed the structure and everything in it to attempt to revert back to it's original position after centuries of being squashed.

Feeling the building move around him (Raziel toyed with the idea of this being surreal, but that would be hypocritical coming from a walking, talking, deep fried blue soul-sucking corpse), Raziel escaped through one of the Elder Gods spectral train platforms. Perhaps he would point him in the right direction. He missed his A-Z map of Nosgoth.

The Elder God debated whether to give Raziel another hit to where he should be going. He sniggered at the thought and decided to encourage Raziel in a particular direction. "Raziel, if you go to the canyons, there may be something of interest there. If not, it gives you some exercise and you can practice your climbing."

Raziel huffed and set off. He didn't need exercise. He didn't need to practice climbing. The Elder God spoke no sense and this unlife was troubling him. He whinged all the way there.

The decayed building had been pushed up by the tremors that were shaking Nosgoth. Its occupant wasn't happy. It made guarding the place difficult when he found himself being knocked over every couple of decades. How was he supposed to do his job properly?

Raziel found himself in something that may have once been a courtyard. In the centre stood what remained of some kind of monument. Dumahim littered the courtyard, none of which looked particularly romantic or willing to marry, but there was a spear propped up against the wall. With minimal fuss, Raziel dispatched them, and went to inspect the remains.

Morlock sat and sniffed the air. Something was off. He'd sat in this chamber for longer than he cared to remember apart from the occasions he'd been thrown off his chair by some damn earthquake. The air in this building hadn't changed since some fresh air had accidentally got in the place, along with some of those damn Dumahim that kept loitering outside. He killed any that came in, that was his job. This didn't smell like a Dumahim, it was more like an old takeaway, whereas he didn't like to mention what the Dumahim smelt like. He decided to let the strange smelling creature come to him. He wouldn't leave his post.

Of course, it all led to block puzzles. Everything Raziel did came down to block puzzles. He tugged at the block, and grumbled about the draft from behind it. Behind the block was a large chamber. Raziel, being the kind of creature that is drawn to lurk within large chambers, draft or no draft, sneaked in.

"Ah Raziel, you got here then" The Elder God's voice chimed in. There was no escaping it.

Raziel kicked a stone and whined. Damn interfering squid. "What is this place?"

"Look for yourself, I found it amusing."

Raziel grumbled a curse in the Elder God's general direction. He stepped forward and squinted at the wall. A glint of recognition; his name was scratched onto the wall. With a triumphant laugh he stepped up to brush the dust away from the wall. The Elder God was trying to humiliate him with what remained of his brethren's fledgling days? He clawed at the wall. No 'woz ere' emerged. He moved along to the next one. It should have read 'Turel w-' in sweeping, loopy handwriting, followed by a chicken scratch that read '-ears women's clothes!'. The younger brothers had found it hilarious until Turel had congratulated them on their accurate guess. No one picked on Turel after.

Strangely, the words didn't appear.

"So, have you guessed yet?" Anticipation tinged the Elder God's voice, like an over excited parent encouraging a reluctant teenage child to open a present.

"There is nothing to guess." Raziel said, though doubt was starting to sink into his mind. The fact 'Dumah' was spelt correctly implied it hadn't been Dumah himself who had written it

"Of course there is, don't be a spoil-sport."

"This is some horrible trick. Or Kain's idea of humour."

"This my lad was the cosmic joke of the age. I have never been fond of your ex-master, but even I laughed over that one. I thought you should see it. You should appreciate good humour. Company policy you know."

Raziel nodded. "Fair enough. But this has only served to heighten my hatred of Kain. How could he raise Sarafan, who wore only classical armour, with dignity and nobility and a commanding air about it - their grasp of colour co-ordination and sense of style that would rival even Rahab's - and force us to wear strange trousers of his own design? Mass produced, plain leather trousers and a half-cape, when we once wore only armour designed and created specifically for us!" Raziel fumed, his eyes glowing angrily. "Kain..." He growled threateningly.

"You really have a thing about them trousers don't you?" The Elder God asked. Curiosity had finally got the better of him.

Raziel blinked. "No." He coughed. "So then, now you have revealed this big cosmic joke, where do I go?"

"Have a look around this place, finish your day off, then I'll tell you more."

Raziel turned to leave. With one final glance back, he made his way out, and to explore the rest of ruins.

"I can't leave you to do anything right can I?" The Elder God sounded exasperated. "Stay in the room, go spectral and then the floor will go weird and drop and then you come out of spectral and then someone will be there to greet you." He took a breath. "You nearly buggered up my plans there you know." There was a pause. "Damn, did I say that out loud?"

Raziel was startled. "Plans?" He frowned, then he grinned humourlessly. "I knew it! And I knew I'd get it out of you somehow." He added quickly. He really did miss his A-Z of Nosgoth. He idly hoped Kain had enough spare change to replace that, too. He went back into the room, spun an elegant little circle, and dropped.

Morlock sat there. There was definitely a change in the room, but he couldn't see anything. He wasn't sure he could smell anything anymore, but he was on his guard. That's what he did. And he done it well.

Raziel whined, rolled over, and pretended to die. Even after hundreds of years in the turbo spin cycle, he still had problems with vertigo. After a while he sat up, and went to find a portal.

Morlock sat there. Determinedly guarding.

Raziel twirled, and the world righted itself. There was a large eared, vaguely humanoid rabbit creature sitting at the opposite end of the room. Guarding.

Narrowing his eyes Morlock looked at the intruder that suddenly materialised at the other end of the room. "I'm guarding here. Leave."

Raziel narrowed his eyes back. "No."

"This is where I guard. It's what I do, guarding. Leave or I will guard this place more actively."

Raziel blinked. "There's no way out. Guard actively if you must."

Morlock stood. "Now you've gone and done it. I have to guard and get out of my seat. How am I supposed to guard properly if I have to actively guard against you. I can't passively stay guarding against anything else because all my guarding has to go on you. That's very selfish of you." Many a Dumahim had fled Morlock in confusion.

Raziel twitched. "If you can't actively guard against one thing but passively guard against many at the same time, then you aren't a very good guard. You have to be able to balance passive and active guarding at the same time if you wish to become a great guard."

"I am a great guard. I have been guarding all my life. That's what I do. Guard." Morlock determinedly stood there. Guarding.

Raziel would have liked to have rolled his eyes, but his weren't suited to do so. "You're guarding very well. Do you know what you're guarding?"

"What I guard is only important inasmuch as that I'm guarding it. I guard what I guard." Morlock, having just had the longest conversation with anyone in over a millennium stopped and thought about the question he'd just been asked. "Err...no."

"Well then, how do you know it's worth guarding?" Raziel quirked a brow.

"Because if I'm guarding it then it must be. It's what I do." When on uncertain ground it is always useful to revert to what you know, this is just what Morlock did.

"There might be more important things out there to be guarded. There aren't many guards left anymore. A good guard shouldn't waste his guarding on things that might not need to be guarded."

"I need to guard here. I am guarding this place." This strange blue creature that smelt funny was confusing his highly focused brain, so he reacted in the only way he knew how. He sent a blast of telekinetic energy at it. That usually done the trick so he could go back to his guarding in peace.

Raziel fell over backwards. That had been unexpected. He jumped back up onto his feet, and backed off, watching the guard carefully for a moment to attack.

Morlock was dismayed the creature had got back up. They didn't usually do that. He sent another blast at the creature.

Raziel ducked and dived forwards while Morlock was temporarily defenceless. He swiped out.

Morlock felt the unfamiliar sensation of his skin being torn. Shocked that he'd been hurt, even if only temporarily caused him to swipe back.

Raziel was caught again. Ignoring it as best he could, he ducked and aimed another attack at Morlock. He darted back out of physical range.

Morlock was glad the strange blue thing had moved away. He aimed another blast at it, irritated that he was being kept away from valuable guarding duty.

Raziel noticed the moat around the edge of the floor. Careful to stay near to the edge, he threw himself again at Morlock, and took a swipe at him.

Morlock was unused to anything ever getting this near to him so was not particularly adept at unarmed combat. He focused on his opponent like he focused on his guarding, to the exclusion of all else including his surroundings. Thus through his own actions he of not looking where he was going he fell into the moat and burnt horribly.

Raziel watched with some satisfaction as the strange vampire was burnt up. The water bubbled interestingly. He idly inspected his wound, still not used to the not healing up without some help. Raziel made use of Morlock's soul for that.

The Elder God on cue spoke. "The obsessive Guard's soul is useful. You have now nicked his ability to use basic telekinetic skills. So, interestingly has the Tube Reaver. That should make for some fun if you get bored. You can explode things. I'm almost jealous."

Raziel was almost impressed. "Finally, an ability worth having." Odd it should have been from a random, lesser vampire, but he couldn't argue.

"You can run off and get Rahab now if you like. Go north from here and you'll find him. The place is a bit soggy so expect to find yourself thrown back into the spectral realm very three minutes. And while I remember, I have an A-Z back at the office if you want it and please don't ask that woman for directions, you'll never get anywhere."

Raziel whined an acknowledgment, though he did sound much more enthusiastic about the prospect of an A-Z, and peered around the room. What the Elder God hadn't told him was how to get out.

The Elder God watched as Raziel stood in the middle of the room looking confused. After a while the Elder God gave in. "Go spectral again." He said in a tired voice. Raziel could wear down anyone's happiness.

Raziel obeyed, though he wondered exactly what he might gain from going spectral except a headache. The Elder God was apparently silent. With nothing else better to do, Raziel aimed his hand at the wall, and attempted to fire a telekinetic projectile. After a number of efforts, he finally managed it. It hit a decorative stone in the wall. The decorative stone was no more. Raziel went to inspect it.

He presumed the stone was one of Rahab's designs, it had something of his style about it. He followed the nearest path and came to a large, over decorated hall, which in turn led to an isolated lake, with a sunken ship, though on closer inspection, it looked to have been a new ship that had been artificially distressed to look antique. Raziel once again wished he had the ability to roll his eyes, and continued on.

Swimming about in the water, circling the sunken ship like barracuda were two beings that appeared to be one part spitting cobra, one part fish, two parts frog and a small hint of badger. Barely breaking the surface of the water they watching the intruder with beady red eyes. Diving, they swam off silently leaving the water's surface smooth showing no sign they had been there.

Raziel watched them go. Rahab's children, no doubt, they looked like something Rahab would stand on a mantelpiece. Raziel continued on his way until he came to an large open area, surrounded by high structures and filled with water. Raziel whined. His brother hadn't made this easy for him, had he? Raziel couldn't decide if the block puzzles were worse than the migraines from going spectral every few moments, or the other way around.

The Rahabim had decided to go and report this newcomer to their master, but on getting halfway there, they argued that if they spoke to Rahab this time of day it would be bad for his karma and the direction of the wind would possibly throw out his Feng shui if the door was opened. Coming to the conclusion that it wasn't worth incurring their master's mild chastisement and yet another lecture on 'colour therapy and how you too can attain spiritual balance', they circled back to deal with the intruder themselves. It had to be dealt with, it's blue was clashing with the ambience of the Drowned Abbey. There were worse crimes against the Rahabim, but not many.

Raziel bounced over a number of stones. Briefly he wondered exactly why Rahab had installed random stones in his otherwise unflawed masterpiece. Perhaps they were 'in' at the moment, or helped with the flow of good Chi. Either way, they were useful, and secretly fun to bounce over.

The Rahabim decided to wait just inside the building. The slightly smaller one turned to her larger companion. "Do you think it is wise for us to leave the water? The stranger appears to be avoiding it, shall we not use this to our advantage?"

Her companion spoke. "You forget young one, I am well versed in the reading of the waters ripples. That in combination with the clouds on the west side of the sky being in the shape of a one legged turtle is telling me that the intruder can be dispatched if we face him in his natural element."

The younger one looked at him askance, she was of a younger generation that was rejecting the old ways and thought that maybe common sense wasn't as overrated as this lot claimed.

Raziel bounced yet more, until he eventually found somewhere else to go, and entered into an elaborate building of some sort. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself he was almost missing the block puzzles.

"Halt. You will go no further stranger. Your blueness is not of this place and therefore upsets the balance and harmony we have worked hard with our consultants to achieve." The younger Rahabim stood behind with crossed arms rolling her eyes as the elder spoke.

Raziel halted obediently and looked over the two with a critical eye. "I'll have you know my blueness melds into the stone grey and offers a subtle compliment to the colour scheme, it forms part of the harmony and unsettles the otherwise dull balance enough to offer an eccentric focal point. You however, in your Antique Sail White glory, contrast horrifically with your surroundings, your stark brightness like a beacon of garish distaste." Raziel said without so much as pausing for an unrequired breath. It had been some time since he had had to communicate in Rahab's own 'language', as it had come to be known.

The elder Rahabim was struck dumb by this stranger's knowledge of his native tongue. The turtle in the clouds should have had two legs for him to know that. The younger however, couldn't believe she'd have to put up with more of these ridiculous notions from the stranger too. She stepped forward. "Look, Dude. Your upsetting the old man, if you go upsetting his sense of propriety and colour co-ordination he's gonna get confused and it's gonna whack my day out of sync, you know what I mean? So make like a nice blue creature and get lost."

Raziel narrowed his eyes at her. Languages were one of Raziel's few talents. Languages, tragedy, and, in a lesser way, hairdressing. "You takin' anything for that attitude, kid? 'Cause you oughta be. How about you and gramps there make like good little Rahabim and get outta my way, 'cause whatever you think your day's been like, it ain't gonna have nothin' on what my week's already had." He paused, and frowned to himself. The accent was almost right, but he'd got the grammar wrong again. He watched her expression to see if she noticed, but he struggled to read her snake-like-badger face. He went for the spear on the wall behind him instead.

"Yeah? Come on then." The young Rahabim goaded, proving that no matter what the younger generation of Rahabim thought, common sense still truly eluded them. The older generation for all their whimsical notions and interior design sense, did possess more savvy than given credit for as the older Rahabim slipped back into the water temporarily unnoticed by the other two.

Raziel charged at her, with a battle cry, the spear lowered at her middle.

Showing a continued lack of common sense, she spat a projectile at Raziel, instead of trying to avoid the sharp pointy thing that was about to impale her. Doubly bad luck, was that she was not only impaled but a bad aim.

Raziel, being about equal to a small mollusc on the intelligence and observancy scale, didn't expect her to actually run into the spear, and was caught off guard as the weapon stopped moving while he carried on. Flying over the top of the impaled Rahabim, he came land and skidded almost off the edge of the ledge that lead down into the water, but caught ahold of the ground with his claw tips and instead hung, swaying gently in the breeze, over the water. He could have dropped, of course, but he was tired of having a Spectral Realm induced headache all the time. He struggled to pull himself up.

More Rahabim had come to the scene and were circling in the water like severely malformed crocodiles.

Raziel struggled and clawed and gouged large claw shaped marks into Rahab's flooring. With great difficulty, he began to pull himself back up again.

The Rahabim circling could see the destruction being wreaked on the flooring, but circled around unsure what to do. They were interior decorators, colour consultants and therapists, not fighters.

Finally, Raziel hauled himself up. He almost smirked with his triumph, except he couldn't do so. Out of cruelty, he kicked the remains of the broken flooring into the water, and ran away giggling like a schoolgirl.


	7. In which doubleglazing would've helped

A/N: Amazingly, this fic is not dead. I did say that it would us take a while to update this, and it has been done. Thank you to those still reading this, and for your patience.

Chapter 7

The Rahabim, by way of carefully chosen pastel shades of post-it notes, had delivered the message to Rahab that an intruder had been intercepted within the grounds of the Abbey and that he had gone so far as to enter the outer corridors and halls of the building leaving everyone's Karma, Chi, Spiritual Balance, Aura and Cranio-sacral therapy appointments buggered up.

Rahab carefully swum in a soothing motion clockwise to the sun pondering a beauty treatment made from cucumbers for Turel when the lilac post-it note made it's way into his flipper. Surely Raziel hadn't come back from the dead to find his teddy sock? Or worse...Rahab felt his aura wobble in an uncomfortable way and calmed himself by reciting sonnets he had thought of that morning.

Raziel was running. He ran in a way that defied Rahab's expertly carved 'The Chi Flows With Gentle Tranquillity, Please Have Righteousness And Travel Softly Like Bubble Not The Race Water' signs. He was giggling too, but Rahab had no signs saying anything about sound levels. He supposed that the echoes of pan pipe music in the hallways was truly calming enough to stop the Rahabim from making too much noise. Or maybe they only made whale noises now, anyway. Either way, Raziel only stopped giggling when he was forced to switch back and forth from the material and spectral realms to pass through some iron gates, that weren't gates at all as they had no means of opening. He wondered what purpose they served, or had they just been fashionable at the time. Or maybe they were fancy notice boards. They were covered in delicately coloured post-it notes.

Meanwhile, a small Rahabim with a cold sat on one of the rocks outside Rahab's main chamber. He was supposed to be waiting on his master but his sneezing was interrupting everyone's enjoyment of the pan pipe music, so he'd ended out here with his roll of tissue blowing his snout. Noticing he'd run out of tissue, he committed a terrible crime. He went to find more tissue leaving the cardboard roll behind.

He remembered it quite a while later, but it was such an innocuous item that surely there would be no harmful repercussions…?

Raziel found a large rock. Upon closer inspection, the rock turned out to be a large cardboard tube shaped building he had first been confronted with. Upon very close inspection, he found a cardboard tube on top of a stone, obviously the architect's original depiction of the building before his eyes now. He examined the tube, then the stone, and after some deliberation, lifted the tube and sat on the stone. He could hear splashing nearby.

Deciding that he refused to let Raziel's presence interfere with the peaceful flow of any of his beneficial energies, Rahab swam contentedly listening to the gentle splashing of his fins. Noticing the position of the muted sunlight through his stain glass windows, he new the time had come. Clearing his voice he read an excerpt from this month's book 'The Way of Tea' into the microphone for all of his subjects to hear and absorb the knowledge into their being.

Raziel listened quietly to Rahab's voice. Rahab always used to read the bedtime stories. At least, the boring parts of bedtime stories. Kain would read all the gory stuff. He'd re-enact it for educational reasons, too.

Rahab's reading went on for precisely twenty eight minutes and twenty eight point eight seconds as was required. Then he began to recite his mornings compositions for all his followers' to hear:

"The sunlight in the morning

Gives me fair warning

To stay in my Tower

'til beyond midday's hour."

A collective groan rang, this was everyone's least favourite part of the day.

Raziel hummed along with Rahab's familiar drone, his eyes drifting shut, until Rahab's mention of staying in the tower shook him out of his doze. He looked up at the…tower beside him. Inwardly celebrating, he ran up closer to it, rushing to see if there were any way in. Seeing none, he sighed, and fell back onto his rock. There had to be some way of getting to his brother from here..?

Rahab's voice stopped. Another voice came out over the speaker, it was soft and floaty with the distinct 'and how does this make you feel?' tone to it. "Today's announcements." A slight cough. "The lecture on 'Aromatherapy throughout Nosgoth's History' has been rescheduled for the following night due to the Astrology club needing he room for a once-in-a-millennium heavenly event. And finally, please everyone, remember to attend the unveiling of the new stained glass window in the arboretum."

Raziel perked up again, and looked up to find that Rahab's tower had a number of small stained glass windows. He tried to scale the wall using the highly unglamorous climbing ability of Zephon's, but failed. Obviously Rahab had taken precautions against their younger brother even now.

With a frustrated huff , Raziel marched over to his stone, pulled a small stack of note cards from his cowl and held the cardboard tube up in front of where his mouth used to be. "RAHAB!" He yelled into it.

There was a smashing of glass and a yelp. "You just killed my news broadcaster and counsellor. I am perturbed by this behaviour, Raziel." The calm voice of Rahab came over the speakers.

"Don't worry about it, Rahab. I have a much more important message here from the Elder God's offices." Raziel lifted one of the note cards to his face. "Ladies and Gentlemen. If I could have your attention…"

"Your not still sore over your teddy socks?" Rahab interjected. "Surely it can't be…" Rahab sounded almost shocked. "You appear to have lost your trousers." There was silence for a few seconds. "Elder God?"

"I meant…my teddy socks, yes. I have an important message for the office in possession of my teddy sock." Raziel coughed. "Rahab, do not speak about my trousers when you aren't wearing anything."

"I apologize for any distress I may have caused. I know how much you loved your trousers and as to my lack of attire, I find it difficult to wear clothes when I lack the tailors to sew anything of appropriate shape and size. But as I told you before, I did not take your teddy sock. It was lost in the wash. Come drink some herbal blood with me and let the lavender imbued liquid calm you, as your amplified voice is shaking my windows."

Raziel blinked twice before answering. "That's kind of you, Rahab, however, I'm not holidaying. I've work to be getting on with: souls to count, marriages to conduct, you know, the usual." He raised his voice a notch as the pan pipe music reached a particularly dramatic point.

The windows shook a little more. "This is all about losing your trousers isn't it?" Rahab was developing a distressed edge to his usually calm voice.

"Now you mention it." Raziel called back. "I was kind of gutted -" he paused and cringed at himself - "to lose them. Them and my wings. And my jaw. And…guts. All because Kain threw a hissy fit. And really, you're the one with taste in the family, why blue, Rahab? Why the blue wash? Do you know how long I spun with Turel's dress? Melchiah's sock - wait, bandage?"

"I had to, I didn't know you were going to come back. The only other wash I had for that day was Turel's pink wash. Would you have preferred that? As to your question, I do not know exactly. But I would imagine between the time you were thrown in the wash to sometime before now."

Raziel called back, a little louder, watching the window above him shaking, "Pink is more natural, Rahab." Then, "Your estimate is about right."

Rahab jerked back as the window directly in front of him smashed from the vibration. "Please do stop shouting, Raziel."

"I have to," Raziel yelled again, "your pan pipe music is too loud."

Another window smashed as the volume of the pan pipes diminished to almost nothing. "My eyes are starting to water, Raziel. I do hope you stop yelling through that contraption you found now."

Another window went.

Rahab was starting to make the transition from 'mildly concerned' to 'unduly worried'. Rahab tried another approach. "That's very nice, Raziel. Now, your issues with Father. How does this make you feel?"

"Kain?" Raziel growled, "Brother, how would you feel if your own father sentenced you to dea- no, to an infinite existence of pain and anger and betrayal! And a waist that will not support trousers, even with a belt!" Raziel shouted, and huffed angrily.

Rahab gave it some thought. This was why he wasn't a counsellor. "Unhappy?"

Raziel scowled up at the window. "Unhappy?" he growled, "Unhappy?" Then he paused. "I guess you would only feel unhappy, but if you didn't have spiritual-aura-chakra balancing stones hanging around your neck, it'd be more than unhappy." another pause. "Truth is I'm pretty upset." He looked at down at his claws sulkily.

"Well, so long as you stop shouting. Did you want tea? Oh, and as for your waist size, have you tried a drawstring waistband? You need a tape measure, that would help."

"Tea…" Raziel said thoughtfully. "I'll need a straw to drink it through. And that tape measure would be useful." He sighed loudly, still holding the tube to his face.

"I'm afraid I don't possess any straws, but you can have this." A tape measure came flying through the window. "Damn." came Rahab's voice over the speaker at the sound of breaking glass.

Raziel jumped to catch it. It happened in slow motion because that was cool. "Thanks." he said, then because he had a job to do, he called back "Thanks." again, much louder.

There came an interesting sizzling sound as the final window smashed. Rahab's final words came clearly over the speaker. "Oh bugger."

Raziel whined in triumph, feeling mildly disappointed he didn't get any tea as promised and scurried off, straight into a puddle. He grunted irritably, feeling his headache return, and pirouetted back.

The Elder God, with his usual sense of timing, decided it was time to 'guide' his employee again. "Have you tried devouring your brother's soul? You do know you shouldn't need reminding?" The Elder God thought for a second. "Ooh, I should mention, there is something rather fabulous around here somewhere, it'll be handy to find if you want to toast marshmallows."

Raziel quickly devoured Rahab's soul, wondering what amazing party trick Rahab had mastered, before the sound of rippling water reminded him of just how slow-witted he was. "Can you huff marshmallows?" he asked the Elder God.

"Not really." The Elder God replied cheerfully. "But you'll find it useful. If they don't marry, you can toast vampires, and I suppose by eating their souls it could be seen as similar. Toasted vampire souls, toasted marshmallows, all the same really. Run off and find the Fire Forge. It'll make the wraith Tube sparkly."

Obediently, Raziel went to find the Fire Forge. "Toast." he said mournfully. "I miss toast, perhaps souls taste better cooked than raw." he said, thoughtfully, and with the prospect of cooked food ahead of him, he carried on a little more cheerfully.


End file.
